The Green Wall
by IRiSEaGLes
Summary: Written for The Houses Competition Year 5. He wasn't really a friend, but he also wasn't really an enemy. The respect one held for the other was deeper than they could have shown.


House: Snakes  
Class: Potions  
Standard  
Prompt: [Event] Funeral of a frenemy (one who is both a friend and enemy)  
Word Count: 1261  
**Trigger warning - mentions the death of a major character.**

* * *

They stood shoulder to shoulder, as they had done for so many before today. They had attended them all, and this would be no different. Each had been sad, some more than others. Each had been somewhat the same - a few words here, the piercing sound of mournful wails from friends and loved ones, a small gathering afterward.

They never stayed for whatever happened after the ceremony. They just made their quiet departure.

But for Marcus, this one was different. He wasn't a friend. He wasn't an enemy. He was something of both. Marcus had admired him, for his constant optimism and creativity and his never-ending stream of talent on the Quidditch pitch.

Though they believed in very different things, these two had more in common than either really wanted to acknowledge. They both were passionate. They both loved Quidditch. They both had been born into pureblood families.

They had so many differences that had seemed to overshadow the similarities though: the biggest being their families' beliefs. The Flints had preached the necessity of blood purity in their families for generations. They were one of the Sacred Twenty-eight families and they were very proud of it. Then there were the houses the two had been sorted into: Marcus was a very proud Slytherin and the rivalry between the Slytherins and practically every other house was infamous. Finally, there was the war. Though Marcus didn't become a full-fledged and Marked Death Eater, he fought alongside them.

Fred Weasley didn't. He fought for the Light. He was one of those overly proud Gryffindors. And though the Weasleys were also members of the Sacred Twenty-eight, they were friends with Muggleborns, Halfbloods, and Purebloods alike. They didn't care about who your family was, or how much money was in someone's vaults, or which house the person was sorted into. The Weasleys had room in their hearts for anyone they deemed good and fair.

So when Marcus found out when Fred Weasley's funeral was, he called up the remained of his house Quidditch team and insisted they all attend. They had attended many funerals for those they knew in their own house and those who were close that lost family members. They each had their own set of funeral robes, but for this one, Marcus insisted that the team wear their Quidditch uniforms. They may have been Slytherins attending a Gryffindor's funeral, but they would show up looking united.

Because if there was one thing that the war taught Marcus, is that the wizarding world as a whole has to stand united. Together. And only together will they survive.

There had been so many funerals that Marcus truly wondered how they would go on. How would the next generation look upon his? Would there even be a next generation?

For Fred Weasley, his life ended at the final battle. He would never have the chance to have a family, to see his brothers and sister raise their kids, to be a dad or a grandfather or an uncle.

And Fred Weasley was not the only one to be lost that day. Marcus had seen two of his close friends already laid to rest, so young and with so much promise.

It was then that Marcus had put aside everything he knew, all the prejudice and hate, all the petty rivalries and even the ones that have lasted for generations. It was then that Marcus stood up to all he knew, turned around, and changed. He changed in the name of Fred Weasley and all the others that died that day.

So it was only appropriate that Marcus stand here, as the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, in his one leadership role of his life, and say farewell to one of the men that changed him for the better.

Flanked by his Beaters, Chasers, the Keeper, and their Seeker, the seven men stood proud and strong. They each had changed in some way, and the man being laid to rest was a large part of it. They each had silently laughed at the pranks that Fred Weasley had pulled through school, and no one - in any of the houses - could deny that Fred and George Weasley's departure from school was anything less than explosive. They had been in awe of the Weasley family's Quidditch talent, even though they would mock the family for being able to field their own team if they had wanted. They all had also been impressed with the raw magical ability the twins shared.

Each of the team members had their stoic faces, that look that came with living in the dungeons for any length of time. It was a mask they wore to protect themselves and their emotions from being broken. _Emotions are a weakness_, they were taught. But standing here, watching those mourning for a lost half of a set, seeing their tears streaming down faces that all look the same; it didn't seem like weakness. It looked like strength. The strength to not care what others thought at your lowest time.

He felt a hand quiver on his right. Malfoy's. Malfoy had seen the most and the worst through the war. He had known the Golden Trio personally. He had seen one of them hurt somehow, and since then he had not been the same.

Marcus knew that he didn't have that relationship with this twin, though it didn't change his resolve to be here today. He was just grateful that this one funeral didn't affect him as it seemed to be affecting Malfoy.

He took a quick glance to the others that flanked him - all standing tall. They looked like a green wall at the back of the mass of people. They looked more like bouncers at a club than mourners in their own right.

When it was all said and done, the seven turned to leave. Before they were able to, though, an arm reached out, grabbing Marcus's hand.

The next thing he knew, he was enveloped in a hug. Someone was hugging him. A redhead was hugging him. An earless redhead.

"My brother would be happy that you are all here today. Though he probably would be doing something for those shitty robes you're wearing."

Then it dawned on Marcus, it was the other twin - George Weasley - that was speaking to him.

"If you think for one moment that mum is going to let you all leave without eating something, you'd be wrong," the remaining twin continued. "She has the whole house full of food, and other people kept bringing more and more. The Burrow is about to explode with food. Now, if I remember correctly, Flint, you and your goons here can put away groceries as well as Ronnie-kins. So get your sorry Slytherin butts inside and start eating."

Marcus was at a loss for words. So was everyone on either of his sides. George just shook his head muttering 'suit yourself' and turned to leave.

Marcus looked at each of the other members of his team in turn, silently asking their opinions. With a nod of one's head, a half-shrug from another, a smirk from a third, and somewhat vacant looks from the rest it was agreed that they would at least get some food.

"Just watch yourselves," Marcus warned. "It may be his brother's funeral, but I wouldn't put it by that Weasel to prank us in some way."

That moment, Marcus realized that the world would be right after all. It may take some time, but all would be right one day.


End file.
